Old Wounds
by Mutinous
Summary: "They say don't open old wounds. But I'm going to." Link is haunted by the loss of Mipha as she holds the door between him and death.


_They say don't open old wounds._

_But I'm going to._

* * *

The first time it happened, he felt the sword of the Lynel smash into him from above, hooves thundering along the plains. In an effort to avoid loss of limb, he'd shouldered the metal, only realising the gravity of his mistake as it crunched down into his body. Skin shredded. Bones fractured. His core, broken. He heaved blood, eyes blinded from the trauma that radiated out of his wounds.

That was when he saw her.

Her tiny form burst forth from his shadow, luminous and blue, like the ore upon the distant mountains. The air around them came alive. And then, just as the void threatened to devour him, there was a flood. Agony melted away as warmth filled his body. Wounds knitted closed and his bones mended together as if by magic. An old and familiar magic he hadn't felt in over 100 years.

"Mipha!" he gasped.

Her appraisal was as just as gentle as he remembered. Though she seemed halfway there, like a wisp... amber eyes clashing against the cold energy that blazed around her. The night air swept through her body and he shuddered.

"It was my pleasure," she smiled.

Then, as quickly as she appeared... she was gone.

There was no time to stop as the Lynel set upon him again, visibly confused that his foe was still standing. He held his breath and whipped out his bow. Switching his mind back firmly onto the battle, refusing to let her efforts to save him go to waste. He would not make the same mistake twice.

The second time it happened, he was desperate. And had very nearly fallen through on that promise.

The eyes of the Guardians tracked him relentlessly through the open field. There was nowhere left to hide. The sparse trees he'd clung to for life were reduced smoking logs, and the nearest ruins were beyond his reach. Certainly not near enough to shield him from the next attack. Legs aching - lungs heaving from exhaustion - _he could not stop here._

The clicking of the machines grew faster and faster. Electric blue and red gleamed back at him through the spitting rain. All he had to do was survive the next round of explosions. If he could do that, then the ruins might've turned the odds back into his favour. They spurned him onward as he ran patterns in the grass.

The song of the Guardians reached its climax and then two flashes of light woke the skies. He felt the heat of the first explosion rising from the ground next to him. But then, in that split second of relief, the second one knocked him flat to the side.

He crashed into the dirt as the grass around him burned. Nauseous, ears pulsing in time with the pain that coursed through his body. The blow singed right through his clothes, grounding him long enough for the next round of fire to begin charging. If they struck him again - that would be it.

_'Get up... get up... you __**have**__ to get up!'  
_  
He darted frantically towards the ruins, his wounded body running out of manoeuvres to pull. They drew nearer and nearer. As did the Guardians.

Before the next set of explosions consumed him, he saw her again. Mipha surged out of the ashes, catching him in the flames. He couldn't believe the sight of her as he continued to flee but there was no time to form even a word of thanks. A trail of blue light followed him into the decaying walls. With every step, his muscles were rejuvenated. The rawness in his burns, quenched.

Her soft voice emanated through the chaos. "No matter when or how bad the wound... I will always protect you."

"Wait-" he panted.

An arrow thudded into his shoulder, wicked laughter taunting him as the Guardians began their search of the ruins. He glared up at the Yiga warrior and cursed her under his breath. He could not stop again. As much as he wished to chase after his connection with the Zora Princess... her magic was not limitless.

_'Mipha... I won't die here.'  
_  
The third time, he was reckless.

He took flight into the gorge from a snowy ledge, following its sheer cliffs into the Forgotten Temple. Dozens of eyes were trained upon him. It was infested with Guardians. Red lasers cut through the gloom followed by streaks of light, shooting and missing, shaking the walls and crashing into the ceiling. He'd made it most of the way to the shrine before rubble rained over his path.

The fall alone might have killed him if he hadn't glanced off the platforms that were paved into the rock. He crawled across the floor of the temple, teeth clenched, ignoring the incessant ticking of his demise.

"Mipha..." he hissed.

"Mipha, if you're there... I need you to listen. Please."

The blast was so intense that it knocked the following rounds backwards, bouncing smoke and electricity into the air. It echoed in the chamber. A terrible cacophony of destruction.

She appeared again, dousing the heat that threatened to pull him under. And then her spirit guided him out from the fire. He had no memory of climbing to his feet but the ghost of her was in front of him now, pulling him forward and away from the firing range.

"You've been getting yourself hurt again. But Link, you must be more careful. For all of our sakes."

He reached out to touch her hands, as bright as they were in the dark, only finding that they were devoid of feeling. An odd sensation ran through his body - a numbness that took hold in his recently healed wounds.

"I need you to stay!"

Quietly, she vanished.

It happened again... and again. Sometimes, unexpectedly, as a bomb arrow knocked him from the sky. Other times he'd been cornered by swarms of Lizalfos and Black Bokoblins in the thick of the blood moon. There were even times when he felt disappointed by her absence. When Vah Naboris had struck him upon the Gerudo sands or when a Frost Talus crushed him into the ground. His body kept on going. And he cursed it, tethered to the world in spite of its pain.

When he did see Mipha again, he struggled to bridge the gap between them. How could he not? She appeared only at his most vulnerable. When there was nobody around to save him. If he was to be Hyrule's final hope, then she was his. Bound to his spirit for as long as their roles remained unfulfilled.

Old wounds healed and then new ones took their place. Interwoven with scars from a time long passed.

Eventually, the road brought him back to the Lanayru Great Spring.

He would try to summon her one last time in the place it all began. Without the use of violence. It seemed the best they could manage was meeting halfway between life and death... and he had enough injuries to prove his resolve.

Looking upon the water now, he could feel the way it was before. When hope between them existed and they had a future to discuss. Afternoons were spent together beneath the setting sun, bruises ebbing under her touch, lacerations binding closed. The sound of frogs growing louder as the evening approached.

Her love had sustained him all this time. It was a gift and a curse that would follow him until the end.

"I never got to tell you," he murmured. "That I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Mipha. And you waited a whole life without hearing it."

He looked down to his reflection. And there, he saw her, standing at his side... the memory of her shimmering in the waves.

* * *

_They say don't open old wounds._


End file.
